Misery
by Bookwrm17
Summary: Dean tries to protect Sam. Dark oneshot with character death. My first SPN fan fic ever.


Dean had spent his entire life, as far back as he could remember, protecting Sam. When he was a baby, Dean carried him out of the house, out of the fire. When they were children and their father left on a hunt, Dean took care of him. When they were older and hunting on their own, Dean's first priority was to watch Sam's back, and only once he knew his brother was safe would he worry about his own well being. Though there was little in his life that was constant, he clung to that one command, given so many times, by his father and by himself: _Keep Sam safe._

So when Sam was taken by the yellow-eyed demon, Dean blamed himself. If he had only been more careful, if he hadn't let him out of his sight, it would never have happened. Now the demon had his brother, and Lord knows what he was doing to him, and it was all his fault. But all hope was not lost. He could still fix his mistake. If he could find Sam and save him, everything might still be okay.

But when Dean had finally found Sam at the demon's lair, he had been unprepared. He had been expecting to rescue his brother from the clutches of evil, had expected him to be a prisoner. Never had he imagined his brother would be there of his own free will. Never had he thought that Sam could have become one of them.

So he had been shocked, to say the least, when he had seen the wicked glint in Sam's eyes, and when Sam had told him to leave, he hadn't known what else to do but obey. He said he was letting him go for old time's sake, just this once. The message had been clear: If I see you again, I'll kill you.

Dean had driven to the Roadhouse at dangerous speeds, trying to outrun the image of Sam's eyes, hardened and cruel. He had sat down at the bar and ordered a drink, then another, and another, until Ellen had refused to give him anymore. Then he had held his face in his hands and wept, for he was as drunk as could be and he still could not forget that Sam was his responsibility, and despite having put every ounce of his soul into protecting him, in the end it had not been enough. He hadn't been able to save his little brother, and now he would have to kill him.

After that day, Dean does not cry again. Instead, he focuses all of his energy into hunting, into fighting the demon and his minions, dreading the inevitable job that will force him to face Sam and what he has become. The job that will force him to face his greatest failure, and to do the one thing he knows he can't.

But he must. He knows he must. He made a promise that he has already broken once, and even though it had been for the best, he had seen how hurt Sam had been by it. This time there can be no doubt that destiny has finally caught up with them, and Dean has no intention of going back on his word a second time, because as much as it hurts him to admit it, this is what Sam wanted him to do.

So he steels himself for it. Every day he tells himself that Sam is gone and he is not coming back, and the man he saw was not his brother but some monster that had stolen his face. Sam is not evil; he is dead, killed by the demon just like everyone else Dean had cared about. Last time he was unprepared. This time will be different. This time he will be ready.

Sure enough, their paths cross again. Dean is on a routine hunt, a simple salt and burn for once, and the demon is not even supposed to be involved in this one, but suddenly Sam is there. Dean has the gun drawn and aimed and is set to pull the trigger and blast the evil bastard into oblivion, but he hesitates. Despite what he has been telling himself, when he sees him face to face he can no longer deny the fact that, no matter how far he may have fallen, this is still Sammy. He is still his little brother, and Dean can not find it in him to end his life.

Sam, however, has no such reservations. He attacks, and in the scuffle that ensues, Dean does not even see how it happens. All he knows is that suddenly the sound of a gunshot echoes through the empty room, and for an agonizing moment he is unsure which one of them has been shot. Then he registers with horror the gaping hole in Sam's chest, and watches in disbelief as his little brother slumps to the ground. He dies slowly before his eyes, and with his last breath he forces out Dean's name, choking on his own blood.

Time seems to grind to a halt. Dean is unable to move, unable to breathe. He stares into Sam's lifeless eyes, and he knows that no amount of running or drinking or denial will ever let him erase this moment from his mind. Without even meaning to, he has kept his promise. He has killed his own brother, the brother he had sworn to protect at all costs. The bother he had tried to convince himself had died, so that he would never have to see this day. Now he truly is dead, and it is all Dean's fault.

Not knowing what else to do, Dean simply sits next to Sam's body and waits. Perhaps he is expecting Sam to wake up any minute now and laugh at him for being such a baby. He doesn't know. For the first time in his life, he feels lost. He notices the gun lying on the floor. His gun. The gun that has killed his brother. He is torn between hurling it across the room and putting it to his own head. He does neither.

He reaches out and closes Sam's eyes, because he can no longer stand to see those cold green eyes staring at him, accusing him. For the first time he notices the blood on his hands. Sam's blood. How appropriate, he thinks to himself, and for a moment his numbness is broken by a wave of panic because Sam's _blood_ is on _his_ hands, but he clenches his jaw and fights it off, and soon the numbness has returned, accompanied by a dull ache that is all too familiar.

When night finally falls, he burns Sam's body, just like the two of them did for their father not long ago. As he stares into the flames of the makeshift funeral pyre, Dean comes to a conclusion. The demon killed his mother when he was barely old enough to remember. It killed his father when their family had just gotten back together. Then it turned his brother into a monster, and now he is gone too. So Dean is going to hunt it down, and he is not going to rest until he finds it. But when he does, he will not kill it. He will let it kill him instead.

Because after ruining his life, he figures the least the demon could do is put him out of his misery.

**AN:** I feel like a sadist for writing this. To make matters worse, after I finished this, my creativity decided to abandon me and I couldn't come up with a title. Oh well.

Reviews are love!


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